The Butler Did It
by nefret24
Summary: FINISHED! In response to the WWClue crossover challenge. Margaret's murder mystery party brings together our cast, not all of which are getting into the spirit of things... Please RR!
1. Meet the Suspects

"The Butler Did It"

"The Butler Did It" 1/?

Author: Nefret24

Disclaimers: They. Aren't. Mine. This is the self-help mantra I must repeat 15 times to myself, both in the morning and in the evening (not to mention moments of weakness, i.e. now) or my therapist will come over and inject me with something nasty. They. Aren't. Mine. They. Aren't. Mine.

Category: General humor. Wow. That must be a first. (For me, anyways)

Author's Note: Response to the challenge, WW/ Clue crossover. 

~*~~*~~*~

Thunder crashed. Lightning struck. Rain fell in torrents and people got wet while scurrying to their cars and other forms of cover. 

Know why?

Cuzit was a dark and stormy night in Washington, D.C.

On this self same dark and stormy night, after most of the staff had gone home, a meager few still remained in a dimly lit, well furnished room of the White House. They were waiting for their host to arrive. 

One man was waving his invitation in the air theatrically. "This can't be right. I'm the butler? How did I get to be the butler?"

All eyes in the room leveled at Sam. 

"I would just like to know why I have to be the _butler_," he said in more moderated tones. 

"The butler did it, you know," Josh smirked from his slouching position on one of the couches.

"I did not!"

"Ask any paragon of the fictional detective world and they'll tell you the butler always does the dirty deed," Toby added gruffly.

"I can't believe not only am I being falsely accused of a crime I didn't commit"

"Because it's imaginary," muttered Toby.

"But that in addition, I am reduced to the hired help! You guys at least get to be 'guests.' "

"If it makes you feel better, Sam, **I'm** stuck being a girl," Josh said sourly.

"You're not a girl," Donna chided. "Your invitation specifically says 'To _Mister _Peacock- a name which could not possibly be **more** appropriate"

"Yeah, tell me you had nothing to do with _that_," Josh grumbled.

"I might have given Margaret a few helpful pointers, yes."

"Well, I don't see what you're so smug about," Sam said, taking the side of his friend. "Technically speaking, you're the maid."

"Assistant to Josh- same difference," said CJ wickedly, winning a grin from Donna and a sneer from her spin boyz.

"Just because you got a good identity, CJ" Sam began, gesturing again with his invite.

"Yep. I'm a sex goddess. Amazing how art imitates life like that."

"Look, _Miss _Scarlet-"

"That's Ms. Scarlet to you, Wadsworth."

"Skank."

"Butler."

" 'Ho."

"Valet."

"Jezebel."

"Closet mass murderer."

"This is so unfair! I demand to know why I get stuck with this part!" Sam said, giving up under the pressure of CJ's glare. 

At this point, the doors to the room swung open in a wide arc, admitting the last two guests to the party. 

"Let the party begin! Where is the birthday girl?" the first man said.

"She isn't here yet, Mr. President," Toby sighed, picking the lint off the arm of his chair.

"Ah ah ah, you're forgetting" he waggled his finger at Toby.

With another exasperated sigh, "We have no idea. **Professor.**"

"That's better. How can she be missing her own party? Do you know where she is?" he asked his companion.

"How the hell am I supposed to know? It's probably just Margaret being Margaret. She'll show up," Leo shrugged.

Josh shifted in his seat as Leo sat down at the chair to his left and the President on the couch opposite him and Donna with CJ. 

"You're a colonel, right?" Bartlet asked Leo.

"Apparently."

"I can't decide what I want to be a professor of"

"Try economics," said Toby bluntly.

"Been there, done that. I was thinking maybe history"

"And he's prepared the lecture too," Leo added, glancing at his fellow staffers with a knowing look.

"What about Latin?" Josh suggested sarcastically.

"Now, you see, Josh, I was considering that, and I think maybe that's what I'll be. Now do you want to conjugate "amo" for the rest of the night?"

"No, sir, professor sir, " Josh stammered.

"Good. Then no more snide remarks against dead languages."

"All dead languages?"

"Josh."

"Silent as a grave," he nodded as Donna tried to muffle her giggles in her hand.

"That's the spirit!" Bartlet said triumphantly. "This is a mystery party, is it not? Come on, Colonel, it is your secretary," he said, trying to provoke Leo.

"Don't remind me," he said sulkily.

"Come on, it'll be fun. You'll see."

"And it begins with the Mysterious Disappearance of Our Hostess," intoned Toby.

"Right, To- uh, who are you again?"

"Mr. Green, professor."

"Ah, yes. Which Mr. Green are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, in the game he's always the maliciously evil looking one, but in the movie he's the girly man."

Toby's eyes widened several centimeters past their normal limits and then narrowed into a glare. 

"I think we can safely say the maliciously evil looking one," said CJ trying desperately hard to stifle her laughter, as she watched Toby's face contort into a grimace. He looked sympathetically at Leo.

"Hey, if I'm stuck here, so are you," Leo said in reply. And to the President he added, " I don't even want to know where that came from."

"Family nights, Colonel. I've been the Clue champion for years now."

"Great. Just great," Toby said, scratching the lint free arm of his chair with impatient fingers. 

"I'm sure she'll be here any minute, Mr I mean, Professor," Donna chimed in. "She had props and things to pick up from home. She'll be here," she said, defensively to everyone.

"And you're Mrs.White?" the President asked her.

"No. **Miss.** Miss White. See, that makes me inherently a different character- not a maid," she added glaring at Sam, "but" 

"A fun lovin' single American gal," Josh sarcastically filled in.

"Well yes," she said reluctantly, elbowing Josh in the arm.

"Ow."

"Life imitating art," the President chuckled. 

"Couldn't have said it better myself," CJ joined in.

"I believe you did say," Josh chided.

"Well, it's as true now as it was then, Mister Pea-cock."

"You're a girl?" Leo asked Josh, raising his eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Sorry," he sympathized.

"Tell me about it."

A silence fell over the group. The wind howled, the rain poured

If there had been moors and/or hounds in Washington D.C. near Pennsylvania Ave, there would have been hounds braying on the moors. 

CJ shivered. "What made Margaret choose to have a murder mystery party anyway?"

"She thought it would be a throwback to her youth" Donna began.

"How old is she?" Sam asked.

"None of your damn business," CJ barked up. "In the name of the sisterhood, I swear-"

"Never ask a woman about her age," murmured Josh in Sam's direction. 

"The voice of experience?" asked the President, grinning.

"Let's just say I'm still recovering."

"So. What's next?" the President asked, leaning forward and clasping his hands.

"Well, there's drinks on the sidebar and finger foods. Apparently she was at least partially ready for us," remarked Sam thoughtfully.

"Well, then, Jeeves-"

"My name is Wadsworth, Mr.- I mean, Professor."

"Wadsworth- proceed to buttle."

"Sir, I don't think that's a word-"

"Are you going to argue with a Latin professor? Would you like to recite the entire Aenied? Backwards?"

"Yes. Buttle. Right," said Sam, turning towards the sidebar. 

Sam proceeded to take and give out drink orders, and while the President was distracted, Leo and Toby got two minutes to discuss policy before they were reminded again of their roles. 

"How did you get to be a Colonel, again?" asked "Professor Plum."

"Hard work, perserverence, and the luck of the draw."

"No, I mean, really. Who'd you grease?"

"I hope Margaret's enjoying herself wherever she is," Leo said disgustedly. "And that she gets her ass here PDQ so I can have a piece of cake and leave."

"What about singing? Aren't you going to help sing Happy Birthday?" asked Josh.

"I. Don't. Sing," Leo growled.

"I'm with Leo," piped up Toby.

"Josh is singing," Donna said cheerfully.

"Good God," moaned CJ. "Please noooo-"

Josh launched into the chorus of "My Way" and was half standing on the sofa, crooning into his fist. 

Finally, Donna calmed him down and as she put it, "sequestered his imaginary microphone."

At this point, Mr. Peacock sulked, along with Mr. Green and Colonel Mustard. Professor Plum remained in high spirits, Ms. Scarlet was merely grateful for the liquor, Miss White was concerned over the safety of her friend driving on the roads in such conditions, and Wadsworth had started making his third circle of the room with the cheese puffs.

"Cheese puff?" he asked Toby, in a polite voice.

"Go away."

Sam ignored his rude remark and stooping, picked up Toby's fallen napkin. 

"You didn't have to do that," Toby said, blushing as Sam folded the paper napkin carefully into fourths and placed it in his pocket with a dramatic flourish.

"I'm the butler. I keep things tidy," he sniffed, and proceeded to ask CJ if she cared for another cheese puff.

"Why isn't Margaret here yet?" Donna fidgeted nervously on the couch next to Josh. He had his arm draped along the back of the sofa and reached out a hand to place on her shoulder. 

"She's fine. Probably went the wrong way on Dupont Circle."

"I wish I could be so optimistic."

"Okay, that's it!" Bartlet stood up. "Let's form a search party."

"What a ridiculous idea," muttered Leo.

"What was that?"

"I said, fine, sir. Where do you suppose we start looking for our host?"

"Well, there's the billiard room, the conservatory, the ballroom" 

"Sam," Toby said warningly, as Sam began to answer Leo's question.

"The kitchen, the lounge, the study"

"Sam-"

"The library, the dining room"

"SAM-"

"And the hall, but there are a lot of hallways in the White House so I think we can count those out. It's only practical," Sam finished with all seriousness. The others were torn between cracking up, disbelief and frustration.

"What clued you in there, Einstein?" retorted Toby angrily.

"The nameis _Wadsworth_," Sam sniffed.

"Why not try the parking lot, Leo's office, the mess, and the Communications Bullpen for starters?" suggested CJ.

"Good thinking, Ms. Scarlet!" said Bartlet. "Okay, then. Ms Scarlet, you can lead the disagreeable Mr. Green away to the Bullpen, and"

"I'll take the mess," interrupted Sam.

"Yes, Wadsworth. The kitchen must be seen to."

Sam nodded solemnly.

"Why does he get to go to the mess?" whined Josh. 

"He's the butler," said Donna, gesturing at Sam who was refilling Bartlet's glass.

"And?"

"It's what he does, apparently."

"Yes," Sam sniffed again.

"Do you have a cold?" asked Leo pointedly.

"And Miss White can go with Mr. Peacock to look for her in the parking lot." Hearing Josh's protestations, he continued, "Oh, the fresh air will do you good. Brighten your feathers. And the Colonel and I will look over his offices."

No one moved.

"Let's go people!" Bartlet yelled, and strode out of the room with Leo, and everyone else, on his heels. 


	2. Rooms, Weapons and a Missing Bod(d)y

~~*~~

~~*~~

__

The Communications Bullpen

"There's no one here," Toby said sullenly.

"It does appear to be empty, doesn't it?" CJ agreed, looking around with her hands on her hips. 

"Let's go then," he said impatiently.

"Come on, Toby. This is supposed to be fun."

"Supposed to be, is right."

"I bet you sneak in a whodunit on your days off."

"What days off?"

"There has to be some literary merit between political oratory and Beowulf."

"Doesn't mean I have to pay attention to it," he grumbled, looking behind doorframes. Whether he was looking for Margaret or an escape route was uncertain to his companion.

"And that innocent comment about the butler's guilt?"

Toby muttered something unintelligible.

"Hmmm?" CJ prodded, leaning back against some intern's desk and folding her arms complacently. 

"Agatha Christie."

CJ shook her head knowingly, and smiling like the Cheshire cat, took his arm. "Well, come on, Hercule, let's see if we can find Margaret in one of those ever present hallways."

__

The Parking Lot

"I don't see her car," Donna said worriedly.

"I don't see anything."

"That's cuz you're not looking."

"True. That and maybe it's really dark out. And you know, raining," Josh said, pulling his raincoat closer to his chest.

"Where could she be? She was only supposed to be a couple minutes late"

"Can we go inside now?" Josh whined, shaking the umbrella they were standing under. 

"What if something happened to her?"

"If we go inside, you can call her."

"Maybe she's out there, cold and helpless, lying in a pool of"

"Rainwater."

"Josh!"

"Well- less dramatic, but utterly true. We can call the DC cops and ask them if they found a damp redhead wandering aimlessly on the streets carrying various weapons."

"Various?

"You know, a candlestick, a rope, a revolver"

"A wrench, a lead pipe, and a vial of poison?" she finished, with the same sarcastic tone.

"Hey- poison isn't a weapon!"

"Is too- in the 50th anniversary edition."

Josh raised his eyebrow.

"Margaret has the game. How did you think she came up with this?" Donna said sheepishly.

"You. Are weird. Can we go inside now?"

"Oh all right, we can go inside."

__

Leo's Office

"You really need to lighten up more."

"With all due respect, sir," began Leo, as they walked down the corridor to his office. "I think you're taking this a little too far."

"I think it's was a very sweet and considerate gesture that Margaret invited me to her party."

"I think it's evidence of insanity."

"I hardly ever get to go to fun parties anymore. It's always about greasing this guy or impressing this ambassador-"

"In all honesty, sir, it hasn't been much of a party. Our host is missing, dinner is no where to be seen, and we sat in a room sharing feeble witticisms with each other-"

"Sam served cheesepuffs," Bartlet pointed out.

"Right now, I question his sanity too."

"_He_ at least got into his role. You should have worn a monocle."

"I will not now or at any time in the future wear a monocle." 

They turned the corner and found Charlie reading at his desk. 

"Hey Charlie, have you seen Margaret?" Leo inquired.

"She left about an hour ago, said she needed to pick up a few things at home," Charlie answered. 

"Okay. Thanks, Charlie," said the President.

"She'll come in," said Leo, gruffly. 

"It's one hell of a storm out there, sir," said Charlie.

Leo shrugged. "She'll come in. Eventually."

__

The Mess

Wadsworth made his way to the mess with the dignified air of a butler of butlers. That is, until he almost fell down the stairs, slippery with rainwater from those careless individuals who don't wipe their feet before they enter an establishment. 

Readjusting his jacket, he proceeded into the cafeteria with his little diminished dignified air.

He then selected a tray and carefully began to arrange coffee cups in a perfect 180* arc on its surface, adding spoons and napkins, carefully laid out in a fan arrangement.

Wadsworth was a man proud of his work.

He belatedly realized he was supposed to be looking for his missing hostess. He had almost persuaded himself to commence a search of the area until he recalled his duty to the kitchen.

A butler's duty to the kitchen always, always comes first. 

So he filled up the coffee cups and began to look for other edibles to bring upstairs that would go nicely with a side of cheese puffs.

Then he saw a shoe on the floor. With a foot in it. Attached to a body. Near scattered belongings.

This was not a tidy kitchen, Wadsworth mused gravely.

~~*~~

Lightning crashed again. Seconds later, the White House was dark.

Miss White screamed.

Mr. Peacock, startled by Miss White, stubbed his toe on someone's desk, fell into Miss White and crashed to the floor, taking the lady with him while cursing loudly and luridly.

Mr. Green began to itch his head and muttered something about "cheap theatrical stunts" and "bad movies."

Ms. Scarlet chided Mr. Green for his remarks, pointed out that Margaret couldn't possibly have orchestrated it so that the entire White House lost electricity, and then promptly fell over someone's wheely chair.

The colonel calmly picked up the phone to find out what was going on while Professor Plum made remarks about how fitting it should be that the power be out alternatively with speculation on how many seconds it would take the emergency generators to kick in.

Wadsworth was standing in the mess nonplussed. One cannot clean an untidy kitchen in the dark, especially one with a possible dead body in it.

In precisely fifty-nine seconds, the power returned. 

Very soon after that, everyone had reconvened in the room, with the exception of Wadsworth.

"Where's Sam?" asked Josh, rubbing his shins.

"What happened to you?" asked Leo.

"I, uh, fell."

"On me," moaned Donna, rubbing her shoulder.

"You were the one who screamed."

"And you were the one who fell."

"Only because you screamed."

"Did anyone find Margaret?" interrupted CJ, knowing that that sort of thing could go on forever if not properly stopped.

"No," said the President glumly.

"And now Sam's missing too. The bodies pile up," remarked Toby, gesturing with his hands.

"What happened with the power?" asked Josh.

"A surge- lighting hit one of the power cables. It should be fixed by tomorrow and the emergency generators should hold until then," said Leo.

"Took them a whole fifty-nine seconds," said the President triumphantly. "Never got that kind of service in New Hampshire."

"Mr. Pres- I mean, Professor Plum, I really appreciate everything you've done tonight but she still hasn't arrived and something might have happened to her" began Donna, speaking rapidly in a distraught voice.

"Colonel- call her," ordered Bartlet.

"But sir-"

"Colonel, I believe you should follow the order of your commander in chief," joked Josh, receiving one of Leo's best glares in return. 

As Leo was leaving, Sam returned carrying a tray of coffee at a precarious angle.

"Finally. What took you so long?" Josh asked.

"I have made a discovery. I cannot tote coffee from one place to another without spilling it."

"So much for the butler of butlers" cracked CJ.

"I should have listened to Ainsley," Sam continued, oblivious, and walking very, very slowly over to a table, holding the tray out in front of him as if it were a live nuclear device. " 'Don't fill it to the brim,' she said. I ruined my shirt."

"What a tragedy," added Toby, eyeing Sam warily as he set the tray down on a table near him.

"And the weirdest thing happened downstairs. I stopped cleaning the countertops to look for some more food to bring up here"

"You were cleaning the countertops?" asked Donna with a smile.

"There was residue left over from dinnerbut that's not the point."

"There's a point to all this?" Toby said, raising his eyebrow.

"The _point_ is, I found this body"

"Oh, please, do **not** bring Mr. Boddy into this," pleaded Josh. "You've gotten carried away enough as it is."

"Not Mr. Boddy, _a_ body. Margaret's body."

"What?" the party exclaimed simultaneously.

"You found Margaret??" Donna asked anxiously.

"She was on the floor"

"Was she dead?" Josh asked with a smirk, receiving a whap upside the head from Donna.

"She was unconscious, I guess. I'm not sure."

"You're not sure?" CJ asked skeptically.

"Well, I rinsed out my sponge and when I went over to where she had been"

"What?"

"The lights went out. When they came back on, she was gone."

"Margaret's body was gone?" Josh said in an attempt to clarify the situation.

"Why was she on the floor?" whimpered Donna.

"Why did you have to rinse out the sponge?" questioned CJ.

"Irrelevant. What matters is that she's gone again. Obviously under her own steam," remarked Toby, smoothing out his mustache in a way very evocative of a certain Belgian detective.

"It is not irrelevant. What the hell happened to her, that she was unconscious in the cafeteria?" responded CJ angrily.

"Maybe she was bludgeoned with something," suggested Josh.

"Like what?" asked Sam.

"I don't knowA blunt object?"

"Or maybe she tripped on something," suggested Sam.

"A banana peel," scoffed CJ.

"Hey, do not underestimate the power of Chiquita. Bananas have deadly potential," said Josh feelingly.

"Sorry- I forgot your brush with death," CJ deadpanned.

"Maybe she was impaled with a salad fork," Josh remarked, eyeing Toby. 

"Or knocked into oblivion by a flying rubber ball," CJ added.

All eyes in the room were focused on Toby, who bared his teeth and began to shake his head. "I'm the prime suspect, is that it?"

"You have the most violent sensibility in the room," Sam said.

"You were the one who was there," Toby pointed out with venom.

"But I have a weak constitution."

Josh nodded in agreement. "Sam could never stab someone with a salad fork. And he has a lousy pitching arm." 

"He'd do the banana thing though," CJ said thoughtfully receiving an agreeing nod from Donna. 

"You're saying I'd leave a banana peel in someone's way with the express purpose of having them fall down and become unconscious?" Sam said incredulously.

"Yes."

"Oh. Well, I suppose. But I _didn't_."

"Do you have an alibi?" asked the President. 

"Uh, no"

"Then he's probably innocent. Only the guilty ones take the trouble to think up alibis," said the President with an informed air.

"And this is the logic used in the Situation room?" Toby scratched his head with frustration.

"I'm going to ignore that remark, Mr. Green, and remember it at another, more suitable time wherein I can exact the utmost retribution."

"Okaaaaysir."

"So, let me see if I've got this straight," said Bartlet, leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs. "None of us had any luck finding her here- her car wasn't in the lot?"

"No, sir," said Donna.

"But Sam thinks that he saw her lying unconscious in the mess. The lights go out and sometime in that 59 seconds of darkness, Margaret disappears again."

"That about sums it up pretty adequately, I think," said CJ looking dispiritedly at the bottom of her empty glass. She waved it at Sam, who got up with a martyred sigh to refill it.

"Wadsworth, have you been into the sherry again?" the President asked as Sam was bringing back CJ's drink. 

"I am not drunk, sir. I know what I saw. Or what I thought I saw. I know what I thought I saw was there. I just don't know how it got there, or why it was there, or how it disappeared, but it was, she was. There, that is."

"Very coherent, Sam. Are you sure you're not soused?" remarked Toby wryly. 

Wadsworth pulled himself up to his full height and looked down at his nose at Mr. Green. 


	3. Hercule Solves the Crime

The Butler Did It Part 3/3

For disclaimers see part 1

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I," he replied stiffly, "am **not** inebriated."

"Right," grumbled Leo as he entered the room. "She's not at home."

"Thus logic suggests that she was on her way here" the President began.

"And a horrible accident happened?" Donna squealed with fear.

"And then what, her ghost appeared to Sam for a split second in the cafeteria?" CJ scoffed. "Obviously she was here."

"How can she be here if her car's not? Who the hell checked the parking lot?" Toby said in disgust before fixing his eyes on Josh. 

"This is not my fault! It's not like I know Margaret's car-"

"Donna was with you right?" Leo asked pointedly. "Don't you know what kind of car she drives?" he questioned.

"A Toyota. A blue one. I'm not good with cars," Donna shrugged. "And he made me go inside," she accused Josh, giving him a push.

"Did not!"

"Did too- you kept saying how cold-"

"I never said any-"

" -it was and how dark it was-"

"-such thing! How can you-"

"-and how she could be lying unconscious-"

"-accuse me like that! My own-"

"-in a pool of rainwater or something," she glared at him.

"-assistant no less!" he glared at her.

Meanwhile, every one else had been swiveling their heads back and forth watching them argue. Realizing it was pointless to continue in this vein of questioning, Toby called for silence and began pacing the floor again.

"He's very dramatic," the President nudged CJ. "Have you noticed how well he's getting into his role?"

"Writers and amateur sleuths," she smiled back, though keeping a nervous eye on Toby and his path.

"I have a question."

Everyone's eyes turned to Sam. He stood by the couch fidgeting with a napkin.

"Speak, Samuel!" the President ordered. "This is getting to be like a soap opera."

"Are we clear that Margaret is somewhere in the building? I would just like to confirm that I am not crazy and you know, suffering from hallucinations-"

"I think we're all crazy for agreeing to this charade in the first place," muttered Leo. 

"What about CJ's theory on writers and amateur sleuths?" the President asked Sam. "Didn't you want to write a mystery television pilot or something?"

"Uhyeah. A historical mystery series in which-"

"Oh God, here we go again," muttered Josh.

"-the Pilgrims of Plymouth Rock would churn butter by day and by night-"

"Solve crimes?" the President burst out laughing. As soon as his raucous laughter subsided, he managed to get out," That's what I love about this job. You know so many interesting people. I'm sorry Sam, but the idea sucks. Really. But how would modern day sleuths who let's say, run a country by day, solve a mystery of a missing person?"

"Uh" Sam was speechless.

"Oh for God's sake! Let's just ask Charlie. He's probably the only sensible one left in the building!" Toby exclaimed, not wanting to have his position as top sleuth taken away by Sam.

"He's gone already. Would've tried that when I made the phone call but he wasn't at his desk," Leo informed him.

"Charlie's missing now too?" Donna wailed.

"He probably went home to avoid the insanity. Can't say I blame him," remarked CJ casually. 

"Enough of this. She's probably out in the building somewhere- most likely unharmed. Let's split up and look again," Josh said rising from the couch. 

"I am not going along with you this time, bucko. Who knows what part of me will end up with a bruise," Donna announced, still feeling the ache in her shoulder. 

"I didn't mean to fall into you- it just hap-"

And then, the lights went out a second time. 

Mr. Green, who still had been pacing, ran right into Ms. Scarlet, who was inadvertently standing in his path. Both fell to the floor with a thud. Miss White, whose balance had been upset by Mr. Peacock grabbing her arm as the lights went out, collapsed onto the couch, pulling the aforementioned Mr. Peacock down with her. Professor Plum was silently counting underneath his breath and Colonel Mustard sat in the dark listening to the thuds and whispers while shaking his head and muttering, "I give up." Wadsworth dropped his napkin.

In sixty-seven seconds, the lights came back on. 

"They're slipping," remarked the President, glancing up at the lights. Toby and CJ were busy picking each other up off the carpet. Josh and Donna shifted on the sofa, Donna blushing as she lowered the hemline of her skirt which had been pulled up in the scuffle. Josh pretended to look the other way. 

Wadsworth belatedly realized that he dropped his napkin. Bending down to pick it up, he saw it again.

"Aha!" he cried, and seized upon the shoe that had the foot in it. 

"Sam, get off me," said Margaret, who was on the floor behind the couch picking up papers she had dropped.

"Margaret?" Donna jumped up from the couch and turning to the other side, beheld her friend. "Margaret!" she cried again, happily, and crushed in into a big hug. 

"Margaret's here?" Toby asked, a bit dazed. 

"Get up off the floor," said Leo, relieved.

"This just gets better and better," commented the President jovially. "Margaret."

"Yes, sir?" she asked, her head popping up from behind the sofa.

"Come here and sit down. Let Sam serve you a drink. I want to hear all about what happened tonight so I can go upstairs and get some rest."

"Okay, I mean, yes, sir." Taking the chair vacated by Toby, who was now too angry to sit still, she began her story.

"I have been planning this murder mystery for weeks. So it just figures that this morning I forgot the profiles that you would each be given."

"Profiles?" asked CJ.

"You know, you're Ms. Scarlet, you have such and such a motive, and have such and such a weapon."

"Like the game," Donna filled in.

"Right. Anyway, so I went home to get the profiles- which were all mixed up 'cause my cat jumped onto the counter during the day and spilled them all onto to the floor and I had to resort them"

"Get on with it!" Leo groused.

"Right. So I went outside to my car and it wouldn't start."

"See? Told you so, told you we didn't see her car," Josh said triumphantly, smirking at Toby. 

Toby just glared back.

Margaret, oblivious, kept going. "So after trying to get it to start, I decided I'd take the bus. I didn't have any change or a cell phone with me and if I ran back inside, I'd miss it and the next bus wouldn't come for at least another hour so I just left right then for it and didn't look back. I had to go in through a different entrance when I got here, on the North side, and didn't know how to get back to the West Wing."

"So what happened?" asked the President.

"I found a staircase downstairs which eventually lead to the mess. I was very wet after standing in the rain at the bus stop that I just slipped on the floor in the kitchen"

Sam sighed with relief.

"and then the lights went out and I got even more confused. But I found the right elevator and just went up, found my way in here."

"So, you weren't blugeoned with a rubber ball?" CJ said crestfallen.

"Or stabbed with a salad fork?" cracked Josh before Donna elbowed him in the ribs.

"Nope. Just knocked unconscious by her own slippery feet," said Leo, rising, "I don't want to do this again. Happy Birthday," he said, and left the room.

"Party pooper," the President mocked at his retreating form. "I guess I'd better be leaving too- Abby probably wants company to watch 'Mystery!' "

"Goodnight, sir," said Margaret.

"Goodnight, Mr. President," said CJ, Josh, Sam and Donna. Toby was still too angry to speak.

"I guess this didn't work out, huh?" said Margaret. 

"Yeah, you could say that," said CJ. 

"So whodunit?" asked Josh.

"What?" asked Margaret, confused.

"You said you had profiles, weapons and stuff. Who would have been the murderer?"

"Oh, that." Shuffling through her papers, she said finally, "Wadsworth-"

"The BUTLER," finished Toby, a positively beatific expression on his face. "I knew it."

"Hey- so did I!" CJ and Josh chimed in.

"I am not a murderer," Sam said with all the dignity he could muster.

Donna looked at the sheet Margaret had pulled from her stack. "Hate to tell you this Sam, but according to this, you are."

Sam swiped the paper from her hands and stared at it in wonder. "How could I be the murderer? How?"

"How many times must we go over this, Sam? The butler always did it," said Toby, smoothing out his mustache and leaving the room, idly humming the theme to Poirot. 

THE END!!!!! 

Please review!!!


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